The Conformity of a Nonconformist
by the labile affect
Summary: Tweek isn't sure what to expect when a certain goth decides to sit at the same table as him. Dylan x Tweek or Dweek. R&R, please and thank you!


**DISCLAIMER: I do not own South Park. *tear***

**AN: So I randomly got the idea for this and I can safely say after finishing this that I am officially in love with this very cracky pairing. This is currently a one shot, but there's a fairly good chance that I will eventually add on to it. And to anybody who reads this who has the time, I dare you to write your own tribute to Dylan x Tweek or Dweek. This couple should seriously get some support going, because it's amazing. C:**

**And I feel incredibly cool because I'm pretty sure that I'm the first to think of this. Please don't crush my hope by saying that I'm not. It's been my dream for years to start a shipping. ;w;**

It was a chilly day in late spring, about 3:30 PM on a sunny Saturday at Harbucks. He was on his break and he was sitting at the last vacant table. His long fingers curled around the handle of his personal mug and, resting his free hand on the opposite side of the warm glass, he brought the coffee to his chapped lips with a relieved sigh.

Caffeine, particularly in the form of coffee, was the only cure to Tweek Tweak's jitters. Well, there were a few others, but this was always the best solution.

Every twitching muscle in his body relaxed and he no longer felt tense, like he was about to jump out of his skin and run for his life at any minute. His eyes slowly slid shut, a small smile ghosted across his lips, his heart's rapid thumping calmed and he was at peace.

Pure bliss.

"Can I sit here?"

Startled, his hazel eyes flew open and he coughed violently as his sip of coffee went down the wrong tube.

Pure bliss ruined.

Blinking as he wiped his watering eyes with the backs of his pale hands, he glanced up at the source of the voice and nearly started choking again. Except this time it would have had to be on the air he was breathing, because there wasn't actually anything in his mouth.

It was one of the goth kids. The one with the red in his hair. Dylan, the blond recalled.

And Dylan was currently looking at him apathetically as usual, although his brow was raised ever so slightly in response to his fit. He offered no apology or words of concern, however, simply waiting silently for an answer.

Tweek, of course, wasn't often the type to say no.

"Nngh, sure," he finally replied meekly, his breathing returning to normal. His tone was faintly raspy because of his now sore throat, but he soothed it with a deep drink from his mug.

Dylan nodded, then sat down across from Tweek with his styrofoam cup. For a while, they quietly drank their coffee and avoided each other's eyes. Suddenly, even though there was plenty of chatter in the background, Tweek couldn't handle the deafening silence between them.

"Why - gah! - aren't your friends - nngh - here with you?" he asked, flinching at his outburst in the beginning of his question. The weird sounds he made grew louder and increased in frequency the more nervous he was.

Dylan looked at him closely, observing him as if trying to make a decision.

"Henrietta's driving Georgie and Evan to a Blauhaus concert," he told Tweek when he was finished contemplating whatever it was that he'd been contemplating. Tweek frowned, wondering if Dylan would find it annoying if he asked-

"I didn't have the money to buy a ticket. They tried to convince me to just sneak in, but no way in hell am I freezing my ass off if I get caught and have to wait for them outside," he explained, his pale face scrunching in displeasure and irritation flashing in his dark green eyes.

Oh, so that's why he wasn't going to the concert. Dylan had apparently read Tweek's mind.

Tweek fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure what to say. That's a shame? Damn his social awkwardness!

"How come you aren't with Tucker?" Dylan inquired, seeming to want a distraction from the disappointment that he must be feeling about not being able to afford going to a concert with his group.

"Ungh, huh?" Tweek responded intelligently, caught off guard.

"Tucker. That guy you hang with?"

"Oh! Nngh, right! Um, I'm kind of at work. This is just my coffee break. I suppose that I could've taken one of my days off, but Craig's taking Clyde and Token to this movie that I'm not really interested in seeing." Holy shit, that was the longest he ever went without saying "gah" or "ungh". Strange. There was almost something... nice about just sitting and drinking coffee and having a simple conversation.

And then he saw a smirk quirk at the corner of Dylan's thin lips.

"Nonconformist. I like it."

"Er... you do?" Tweek felt his cheeks heating up and knew that he must be blushing furiously like he always did when he was complimented. For what he believed were obvious reasons, he was more than a little insecure about some of his... traits. Clearing his throat nervously as Dylan merely shrugged, he quickly averted his gaze to his lap.

"Gah, don't you usually go to Benny's?" he asked softly, both curious and attempting to prevent a blanket of silence from covering them again.

Dylan was quiet for a while, repeating that observation of him. He squirmed, feeling like he was a bug under a magnifying glass. Oh no, that just gave him the image of being burned to ashes by the sunlight like a vampire. Calm down, Tweek, you're not a bug or a vamp-

"When Henrietta's driving. I don't have a car and this place is closer to my house, so it's easier to walk here," Dylan answered, then paused. "How'd you know?"

"Nngh, what?" How did Tweek know what?

"That I normally go to Benny's?"

Oh. How did he know that? "Ungh! I'm not entirely certain, but I guess that I probably noticed you were there the few times I went there," he replied sheepishly, rubbing the rear of his head.

"Hm," Dylan hummed in acknowledgement, looking thoughtful as he slid a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and took out a cancer stick. He was reaching presumably for his lighter when he seemed to realize that Tweek was grimacing.

"Nngh, you're... you're not allowed to smoke in here. Harbuck's rule. Sorry!" Tweek winced, as if expecting to be bitch slapped for having such nerve.

But Dylan just stared at him for a couple of seconds, then nodded and put away the cigarettes obediantly.

How conformist. Tweek liked it.

"Gah... thank you." Dyan shrugged, but looked vaguely... bashful?

And then Tweek finished his coffee. Biting his bottom lip, he tapped his fingers against the side of his drained mug and was slightly surprised to see Dylan doing the same with the goth's apparently empty styrofoam cup. Dylan noticed and immediately stopped, looking a little embarrassed. Had both of them been stalling the inevitable?

"...Well, I should be getting home," Dylan sighed, not sounding very nonconformist at all. Tweek had a feeling that if he were Evan or Georgie, Dylan would have made an excuse to leave like being bored. Yeah. "This is lame, I'm getting out of here." That sounded about right. He was glad that Dylan hadn't said something of that nature to him, though.

"Nngh, okay. I should be getting back to work, anyway..." he agreed with a hint of reluctance, feeling oddly dejected. The pair stood from their chairs and started to go their separate ways.

And then Tweek hesitated.

"Ungh, Dylan? You should come here again sometime," he invited boldly, his voice quavering and his expression afraid. More than anything, Tweek was terrified of rejection. But bravery wasn't the lack of fear, it was the ability to confront it. Tweek loved that quote.

Dylan looked a mix of shocked and impressed.

"You know my name?"

Tweek was confused. "Nngh, of course. You're in my history class."

Dylan shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "But nobody remembers." Then he looked up and there was a glint in his eyes.

"Maybe I will."

Was Tweek's heart fluttering with hope? He couldn't imagine why. He waved goodbye, then turned around to depart.

"Tweek?"

His stomach lurched at the mention of his name. "Gah! Yeah?" he prompted, his back facing Dylan.

"You're okay. For a conformist."

It was reflexive; Tweek beamed. "Nngh, you're okay too."

**AN: *pile of goo* MEANT TO BE, I SWEAR. Reviews make me ridiculously happy and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Tell me what you liked and/or didn't like, but no flames!**


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